Cinnabar Sins
by anyadoll
Summary: plotless, general season 5 promo based


**A/N:** literally have no plot at all, I just got a divine peek at season 5—if you haven't seen that promo, I demand you all go to CBS now…it's about to get interesting…[lyrics: Run For Your Life by The Fray], and what I stole from said promo: "I'm not your girlfriend!" & "You're just a little bit in love with her", respectively. [also, for those curious, cinnabar is a rock, like quartz, that is red to scarlet in color, it is also considered toxic due to the mercury content—fact of the day]

**Cinnabar Sins**

_She had a fire inside_

_And that terrified you_

_You swore that you'd never lose your control_

_Baby let your self go_

'_Cause part of you hides_

_And I know the hunger inside of you's strong_

_You can only hold back the river so long_

He'd kissed her.

He'd kissed her.

He'd kissed…

She felt the acid bile rise in her delicate throat as the phone she held became heavy in her hand. Felt that familiar prickling of tears. Felt the lump of regret and revile form.

Why did she have to hear that? Wasn't it hard, cruel, awful enough that this…friend of Red John had weaseled her way into their lives, taunted her in dreams as she tried to sleep, would call Jane nothing but _lover_, as if just to state clearly for only Teresa Lisbon to hear that he'd slept with the lying bitch instead of…

She shook her head.

No. Don't think it.

It's not like you have chance.

You aren't blonde, you don't have long legs and bright blue eyes and an undamaged soul, and…and…

You aren't his wife.

You aren't his girlfriend.

You aren't his lover or his friend.

You are his tool to Red John.

Stop acting like anything more.

You'll only get hurt in the end.

XOX

He was not an idiot.

He knew she heard. Knew her curiosity would kill her, not literally, but in a way he wasn't willing to accept.

He felt that present scorn and disgust as he pulled away from the vile creature, dark eyes dancing with pleasure at the torment she caused the two.

Patrick Jane would bend to the serpents lure only until she gave the information he so desired. After that, he'd make sure he shoved the proverbial apple so far down her wicked little throat she'd never dare speak of lovers again.

That made him smile.

"I know why you are so upset with me, lover," she whispered with a pout, trailing one finger down his chest as suggestively as possible. He quirked an indifferent eyebrow.

"Care to share," he asked, his tone dry.

She huffed. "Well, I did ask for your lovely Teresa's head on a nice gold platter for our mutual friend. I may have rushed that demand, but a girl can't wait around, you know? Why not eliminate the competition before you even see it?"

Her tone was devious. He clenched the tables edge.

"Before I see what?" Patrick ground out.

"Now, now. Be nice to me lover. I hold the cards here, and you know it," she snapped. "As I was about to say, it's the most obvious thing in the world really…and if I can see it, you _know _he can."

Jane tried desperately to catch the falling puzzle pieces as they fell, but it was like starting that puzzle in the middle, with nothing, and everyone else already had the corner pieces.

"She is so in love with you, and you just don't see it. It's all quite funny. Red John told me she'd give up everything for you, that he's seen it written all over your pretty Teresa's face. And he's seen something similar Patrick," she laughed, darkly in the still gray room.

She leaned in, pulling him with her darkness and her words.

"You're just a little bit in love with her, too…lover."

XOX

The moment she saw her gold haired consultant, the fire she had pushed down from earlier, from the six months he'd vanished, for all his shams and schemes and tricks, was ready to consume her.

She practically assaulted him, yanking his arm around and smashing the up button harshly for the attic he claimed home. The elevator could not have come quicker.

The ride up was brief and silent.

The moment they stepped into the attic, all bets were off.

Lisbon whipped around, that fire burning dark an vivid in her eyes, as she did everything in her power not to jab him in the chest like a wronged…girlfriend?

"You kissed her!" she shrieked. The loudness of which more than likely woke the dead.

He looked away, tried to look indifferent, but it was hard with her. "Yes, and I thought I explicitly told you not to listen!" he scolded like a teacher.

"Look, I'm not your girlfriend, I'm an officer of the law, and it is bad enough you screwed a murderer once, but to continue this love affair with one of Red John's "friends" is not exactly going to get you permission to keep going back! As for you telling me not to listen? I'm your boss Jane, you don't call the shots, no matter how much you think you do. I can't…I've lost control of you, I've lost control of me, and that, frankly, frightens me Jane! You don't know what those six months were like, you never will. You've…you've pushed me, hard, and away, and this gap between us, of right and wrong and good and evil that you love to toy with…pick a side."

She didn't know she was crying. She knew it all had to be said. For her own good.

"Pick a side, Patrick, because God help me, I'm so sick of being pushed and pulled and toyed with, I'm sick of being here, and you not knowing that all I want to do is help you get out of this alive! I spent every day wondering why you left me…did you know that? Did any of your psychic skills pick that up? Did you ignore them?"

He'd never heard the lively beauty before him so defeated.

It hurt, it shook his resolve, more than Lorelei's words.

Because he _could _see it.

He could see how Red John saw it too.

She was in love with him, so much so that she would one day throw herself into the firey pits of hell he aimed for to pull him out alive. And he wanted that.

He sighed though. Staring at her with empty eyes. "None of us will get out of this alive, my dear."

She choked on a gasp.

Her palm connected with his face. The resounding slap echoed in the attic. Her eyes, he saw, had let the fire die. In the place of fire he only saw ice.

She should hate him.

He wanted her too.

It would keep at least her alive.

XOX

She had no tears left. She gave up on him. He made his choice.

It wasn't her.

You can't cry over something you never had.

XOX

He deserved it, the slap, the hate in her pretty green eyes. He did not deserve her love, and she did not deserve to die because of it.

How would he divert Red John from killing the woman he loved? Getting her to despise him was a start, if poorly constructed.

Well, Jane always knew Red John would inevitably tear them apart. Really, it was only a matter of when. That it hadn't happened sooner was a testament to her saintly-ness.

He had picked her. She just didn't understand how he had.

She probably never would.

XOX

Teresa Lisbon took a week to get away. Their new boss had shrugged and okay'd her vacation time. Her team had looked curious.

She managed to slip out unnoticed.

Let someone else deal with the insanity.

She sat on a massive piece of driftwood, on the beach, surrounded by nothing and no one.

She reflected on his words. The good ones and the bad, ones that meant the world to her, and those that were meant to bite and tear and scar. One line jumped so vividly out at her, she felt like smacking herself.

_Anybody that gets close to me, bad things happen too…_

His mouth had said one thing, and, she realized, his eyes had screamed another.

Maybe…just maybe…

XOX

Lorelei had been no help.

Not today.

Lisbon's absence was tearing him apart.

So much so that his stride was off.

No amount of threatening or appealing to the witch would make her speak. No amount of demanding would get him Teresa's location either.

The beach air always cleared his mind, he thought idly.

XOX

She felt him before she saw him. Her body had become that in tune with his that she could tell when he was near.

She also knew he was surprised she was here.

And he was. Taking in her dark denim jeans, her solid navy shirt, her deceptive calm…

She looked lovely posed against the sea, her dark hair so long now, uncut from the early years, and he couldn't help liking it as it blew cruelly around her face.

"I know you're there. You may as well sit. I know you won't leave me alone…"

He sighed. "I will if you would like me to."

She grimaced, knowing he was serious.

"Sit. We have a lot to talk about."

"That we do, dear," he whispered as he sat next to her on the makeshift bench. "Would you mind if I start?" he asked plaintively.

She made a face, shrugged. "No, please, go ahead and make your case." It came out tart and condescending.

"She told me he knows."

Her face contorted again, curious but unwilling to ask.

"The funny thing is, I think I knew too, she was wrong about that. I've known for a long time," he muttered, twisting the gold band on his left hand absently, staring at the sea.

"And what is it, Patrick? What in God's name could anybody know?"

He swallowed, facing her. "She said something true, and it…scares me. Not for the reasons you think, but for reasons of my own. Because I know what he can take away, I know his power and how he'll wield it. I know that it would kill me. He knows that, too."

She was lost, but she reached carefully for his left hand, the one he played with, halted his motions and laced her small fingers through his.

"Just…tell me," she whispered soothingly. "I can handle it, you know I can. I just want you to share those wondering thoughts with me. Tell me what the hell is wrong and I will fix it."

His smile was watery. "Yeah, you'll always fix it," he quietly said, taking her in, really and truly. The masked love in her eyes was there disguised as something else. "You can't fix this Teresa, it's not something I even want you to fix."

Her eyes urged him on.

"I think you should leave the CBI and California for a little while my dear. I think it would be in your interest to go visit your brothers, pick one, just far away. Go on a real vacation, just leave, please," he pleaded.

"What? Why? I have a responsibility to my team, I just—" She lamented, but he used her hand and her momentum against her, puling her in tightly, clutching her like a lifeline. "Patrick…"

"You have a responsibility to stay alive Teresa. Red John isn't coming for me, he's after you. I cannot live with your death on my hands, I won't. I won't let him take away anything else I love, I can't let him take you, I can't, please…hear me…"

Her hand stilled on his neck.

He held her so hard she could barely wedge herself from his shoulder, desperately wanting to see his face, his eyes.

"Patrick he won't get me. I promise he won't. I refuse to run scared, you know me better. You know him better too, if he wants me so badly, he will find me, find a way. I can't leave you, you know that…don't be foolish."

"I'm not foolish for wanting to keep you alive, Teresa!" he shouted, pulling her back by her shoulders to seek her face. "You don't get it, he will cut you up like he did my wife, and then what will I have left? Another red face? Another life on my hands? Another sin? You keep me sane, Teresa…what happens if you're gone too?"

She was barely breathing.

"Why do you care?" she whispered sadly, but she could hear her own intent behind that.

"Because I love you," he gasped. "I need you to go far away from here so I know you are safe. I need to be able to love you, when he's gone and they're at rest," his own tears mingled with the late California winter rain that began to spit from the gloomy sky. She was speechless for a moment in the misty gray atmosphere of his confession.

She held his face in her hands, her forehead pressed gently against his. "_Because_ I love you, Patrick, I will not leave. I can't leave you now, you know that as well as I do. Especially after that admission," she sniffed, a small strangled laugh bubbling from them both. "You need to know that I love you too, I'm in love with you Jane, that leaving you would hurt more than Red John's knife, and that is a pain I refuse to suffer. I told you before that we are a family. A little insane and dysfunctional and rather romantically challenged, but I refuse to lose you Patrick."

He did not like it, and they'd never had a plan, a contingency for a moment like this, but the way she looked at him in that particular moment where everything was raw and real and new, he knew he would never be able to part with the beautiful woman before him.

Whether it be in life…or death.

Her warm hands held his face, but he moved them slowly down, holding them to his chest, above his heart that pounded so hard.

"We're better together than apart. Always have been," she smiled fully.

"That is a valid point," he replied, leaning in little by little, while recalling his tricks and stunts to get her back, every time she was suspended or fired. "I think I burned all the bridges with the CBI eons ago, my love."

"Yeah, I figured. I am, what did you call me? A 'good, moderating effect' on you after all," she trailed, sarcastic but honest.

"Teresa?"

"Yes Patrick?"

"I think I'm done talking."

"I think so too, Patrick…"

She smiled into the kiss, warm lips and passion, the taste of fresh strawberries and the smell of cinnamon, and she knew they'd be okay.

They loved each other.

Closet romantic she was, some tragedies became love stories in the end. She would make sure that was how theirs ended anyway.

And he'd be damned if it was written otherwise.

That part was yet to be inscribed though, instead he enjoyed the taste of her lips, the passion she had, for him no less, reveled in the fact that she loved him for him, and in her power would never leave him.

He held her in the rain.

In his heart.

_If you go, I go with you…_

It was a thought that crossed into their minds. Unspoken, but there.

His other thought, fleeting and unbidden, was soft and made him absurdly happy and sounded somewhat like the musings of his late wife.

He held her closer, kissed her harder, loved her more.

_Few people ever find one soul mate…you found two._


End file.
